Hello :) Thanks for reading. This is my first fanfiction, so I'm pretty excited. This story is nowhere NEAR completed, so plz don't freak out. Also, for these first few chapters, it will be a totally normal fanfic. But BE WARNED: It may, I repeat MAY turn a little yaoi-ish (If you have no idea what that is, then google it ^_^ )

So this fanfic takes place after the Ghosts captured Rorke and were keeping him captive in the plane. This story generally the same as the game, but I made sure to make it more 'brotherly' between Hesh and Logan and added quite a few differant parts. Enjoy :3

"Back! Get back!" Screamed Elias, as the large plane came into view, emerging from the hazy clouds that enveloped their own craft. Logan's eyes lulled at the sight, as it became seemingly obvious about what was to happen. It was clear the large machine belonged to the else would come to the rescue of the scumbag Gabriel Rorke? The same man who was responsible for the death of thousands, if notmillions. The same man who killed Ajax. The same man he hated with every ounce of his being.

There were no words that could describe the way Logan felt about Rorke. He had tried to kill them multiple times, but failed. Maybethe Ghosts were too good for Rorke... or maybe Rorke was just testing their will power. But still, Logan couldn't help but think how about howsmart the man was. Okay, maybe not smart. He was just cunning as hell.

The feds latched on to the Ghost's plane as a malicious smile formed across Rorke's bloody lips. Logan pulled out his .9mm pistol,shooting at the plane... which you can probably guess, didn't go as planned.

"Logan!" Screamed Hesh, Logan's older brother. Logan turned around, mouth open in awe at the huge gaping hole in the back of their ownplane. The wind whipped his blonde hair in front of his eyes, blinding the corners of his view. Hesh was supporting all of his weight on a thin nylon wire, the only thing keeping him from being sucked out of the plane along with the rest of the team. The plane jerked harshly, sending Logan flying downwards. Hesh reacted quickly, tightly grabbing hold of Logan's wrist, refusing to let go. But feet away, Rorke came into view, standing tauntingly above the two brothers as they hung on for dear life. With that same smile on his face, Rorke spoke.

"If you two make it out of this, why don't you give us a call? There's always room for a couple more!" Federation soldiers emerged besideRorke, looping his arm over their shoulder, hoisting him up into the safety of their plane. After looking down at a frightened Logan, Hesh'ssweaty hand slipped from the rope, sending him and his brother flying out into open sky. They free-flew hundreds of feet, constantly slamminginto debris on their way down.

"Logan, deploy... your... chute!" Yelled hesh, battered by large chunks of metal. Logan obeyed, pulling on the string, releasing the parachute from its bag. He continued his decent, watching patiently as a dense forest came intro view below him. Hesh soon disappeared from view, as the forest neared.

Before he knew it, Logan was being scrapped and stabbed by the branches of the trees. He blocked the onset of sticks, placing hisarms over his face until he felt a jerk, and realised the chute was snagged in the trees. He stayed there for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. He closed his eyes, feeling every muscle in his body ache with pain. With his eyes still closed, he reached for his daggerand sliced the ropes attaching the chute to his harness. He fell another ten feet until he reached the forest floor, slamming into the groundcloaked in foliage. Pausing once more, Logan planted softly, unsure of what to do next. Scrapes and cuts covered his body, and his hands were raw and bloody. A peticularly bad scratch traced down the side of his cheek, seeping blood. But Logan wouldn't let a couple of minor wounds deter him. He crawled blindly onward, until he felt the comfortingly soft crackle of his communicator. He heard the breathless voice ofhis father pour out from the radio, which miraculously survived the plummet down.

"Okay... *cough cough* sitrep. Where is everyone?" It took a few seconds until a reply came.

"Its Merrick. I'm with Keegan." Sighed merrick in a tired tone.

"Okay... Hesh? Logan?" Continued Elias. Another pause came from the dispersed group.

"Uh... it's me Hesh." Came another weak, exhausted voice."I saw Logan get snatched on some trees a few hundred yards away." He sighed.

"Okay. Logan, if you can hear me, try and find the plane wreakage. I'm just up the hill. Same for all of you." Elias stated. Merrick, Keegan, andHesh all confirmed. But again, the expected silence from Logan. Hesh felt his chest tighten in fear...they could only pray Logan was still okay.

Logan continued crouching through the seemingly endless brush, feeling the thorns of nearby plants tear across his flesh in neat, red streaks. He could hear the others chattering away on the radio, but his head hurt too bad to listen. The only thing that crossed his mind was if any of the others were injured, but were just too damned stubborn to say anything. Hesh... was he okay? Suddenly, Logan heard an alarming sound. To his right, about 10 feet away, he heard a man with a mexican accent speak softly. Logan immidiantly went prone and dashed into a nearby patch of leafy grass. Gripping tightly onto his combat knife, he eagerly awaited the approach of the Fed soldier.

Once he was in reaching distance, Logan sprang out of his hiding place and quickly found his way behind the man. Without much ofa movement, Logan placed his hand over the Fed's mouth and shoved the knife into his shoulder, generally in the area of the heart. Crimson blood splattered onto Logan's clothes and face. The Fed struggled desperatly, screaming into Logan's hand. He died quickly, and Logan reacted by placing the corpse into a covered bush. He waited a few more seconds to see if anyone else was coming before he continued his decent deeper into the forest.

As he was crouching, a flash of metal on the ground caught his eye. Curiously, he approached the 'thing', picking it up gently off the ground. He dusted it off with his thumb, instantly recognising the object: A dogtag. He squinted, trying to make out the tiny enscripted letters.

The name read David "Hesh" Walker, age 27.

When he saw that name, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Logan peered up into the trees above, and saw that Hesh's parachute had also gotten caught in the trees. He switched his attention back to the muddy ground, and saw the shape of footprints embedded into the mud. He followed the prints for some time, hoping that they would lead him to his brother. After what felt like hours, Logan began to loose track of how far he had gone. The voices on the communicator talked calmly, but he just couldn't register what any of it was saying. He just walked. And walked. The sun soon disappeared over the horizon, leaving an orange glow in it's wake.

So far, Logan had killed about 12 people, simply by stealthily stabbing them in the chest or back. What resulted was Logan's raw hands covered in dirt and dried blood, and blistered from constant contact with his dagger. He looked up and saw his 13th target peering around cautiously, gun in hand. Logan wiped the blood from a cut just above his eyebrow, that he obtained from getting smacked in the face with a random tree branch. He gripped the dagger as soon as he was three feet from the target.

He hung it in front of him, preparing to strike. He slammed it down, but was suprised when the man jerked around impossibly fast and grabbed hold of Logan's wrist and slammed him painfully into a nearby tree. The man held Logan's head he side using his arm, exposing his neck. Logan felt the cold metal press against the soft flesh of his throat. He panicked, and thrashed around, but the man was too large and too strong. He had his knee pressed against Logan's abdomen preventing him from kicking. Logan felt the man tense his arm, ready to slice his throat. But the man froze, staring at Logan's chest.

Hesh's POV:

I had the young-looking kid pinned up against the tree, poised for the kill. He thought he was being smart trying to kill me from behind, but Dad had taught us how to sense if someone was following us. I used my knee to stop him from escaping, and was suprised that he hadn't called out for help. I lined up my dagger against his neck, but seconds before I was about to end his life, my eyes just happened to wander down to the young man's chest, and froze when I saw my own name on his dogtag. I stared at it, confused. I looked at my own chest and noticed that mine was missing. It must have fallen off when I removed my harness after getting caught in the trees. But why would someone just put on my dogtag after finding it on a muddy forest floor?

That's when I realised who this kid was. This kid who I was about to kill. This kid was my brother. This kid...Logan. I looked at his face, although he refused to look at mine. His blonde hair was muddy and coated in blood, perhaps the reason I hadn't recognised him. I felt weak, the dagger dropped out of my shaking hand, and I released my death grip on his bruised and beaten face. He froze, obviously confused. But still he looked away, scared, as if this were all a con... as if I were going to punch him senseless.

Thats when I pulled him into a hug, and buried my face into my brother's shoulder. It was a sweet hug, but I made sure he wouldn't just run off. I placed my hands firmly on his back, pulling ourselves closer together... I guess I just needed the contact. Logan was the closest thing I ever had to home.

Although ever since mom died, he never speaks a word. When he was a child, he would talk non stop. Honestly, he would annoy the hell out of me. But the day mom died... he changed. One of the last things she said to him was "Logan, you need to learn when to stop talking!" I know she didn't mean for this to happen. I haven't heard his voice in 15 years. But if I'm lucky, I can hear him mumble softly in his sleep. He smelled of blood and sweat. He smelled like Logan. I pressed my face against his, as my eyes welled up with hot tears. I was so scared... My baby brother...I tried to speak, but the only thing that escaped my lips was a pathetic-sounding

"Logan...Sorry..." I felt tears of both joy and horror escape down my cheeks. It almost happened. I had almost killed my own brother...

Logans POV:

I was being hugged... just a few seconds ago, this man was trying to kill me... but now he just hugged me, sobbing into my shoulder. Honestly, I had no idea what to do. But the man whispered my name. So softly and so tenderly. I pulled away and looked into his eyes. It hit me right away that I was looking into Hesh's green eyes. My mouth fell open. I wanted to speak. But as usual, I just couldn't form the right words. He was crying, eyes filled with fear, happiness, and sorrow. I placed my hand on his cheek, and continued to stare sadly at him. He smiled warmly and finally spoke.

"Logan... oh my God. I thought you were hurt. I'm so sorry." He sighed. I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him once more into a quick hug. We released each other and he immediately began inspecting me, looking for wounds.

"Are you hurt?" He questioned. I shook my head no. Again, those annoying crackled, broken voiced spoke from the com. No, Hesh's. Not mine.

"Hesh, what's going on?" Asked merricks voice.

"Good news, Merrick. I found Logan." Stated hesh.

"Okay, Keegan a... we...co.. find..you" The com lost transmission, and soon the signals broke.

"Shit." Hissed hesh. I looked at as he concentrated, thinking for a way out of this mess.

"Okay, let's just keep walking." He sighed softly. So I obeyed, following behind home as we walked through the seemingly endless forest. It was getting harder to walk, because my feet had become impossibly sore and bloody. Every couple of yards, I would trip on a rock or something and slam into my brother, who shot me an annoyed look each time. Soon the light from the sun was completely gone and we were soon left in a developing blanket of darkness.

Suddenly, we heard shuffling to our left, and jumped In surprise as three federation soldiers pointed their guns at us. Hesh and I responded by drawing our own weapons. We stared, but said nothing as we eyed each other suspiciously. No one dared to move, as every gun had a finger placed on it's trigger. Hesh and I have been outnumbered before 4 to 1. So taking theese guys out would be not problem. But Dad had told us that it's best for the enemy to have the first word.

"Don't move!" One of them yelled in broken English.

"Move!" Screamed hesh. And so I did. I shot quickly at the soldiers closest to me, immediately bringing him down. Hesh shot the other, and soon we were left with one. He raised his hands above his head in surrender. Hesh aimed the gun at the Feds head, prepared to shoot. But the soldier quickly placed his hand on the muzzle of the gun, thrusting it into Hesh's head with a force I didn't know someone could have. The blow instantly rendered Hesh unconscious and his limp body fell to the muddy ground. I panicked and aimed the gun at the Fed, pressing the trigger so many times that The feds body was torn to shreds into a mangled heap of bloody flesh.

I crawled over to Hesh, who had a gaping wound on the front of his forehead. I grabbed underneath Hesh's arm and tried pulling him to his feet, but I collapsed under his weight. So I had no choice but to carry him bridal style. I wandered hopelessly for about and hour before I saw a small cave which seemed to perfectly fit two men. I gently played hesh down on the hard, rocky cave floor.

It was getting cold very quickly, so I pulled a thin blanket from my emergency equipment bag strapped to my back. It had holes in it and smelled, but it would have to do. I sat down beside hesh, and covered the both of us with the blanket. I snuggled up warmly beside him, and tried to fall asleep. I listened to the soft sound of Hesh's heartbeat and the buzzing of insects. The air was musty and humid, and I found it hard to breathe. The moon was out, but was nothing but a thin sliver. Eventually though, I fell asleep. But I remember thinking to myself if we were actually going to make it out of this one alive...